


Adventurers Wanted for Simple Fetch Quest

by brokibrodinson



Category: Far Cry 4
Genre: Ajay Eat Ass, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Boss Fight, Frank the Tar Boar, Gary the Honey Badger, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 21:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17496026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokibrodinson/pseuds/brokibrodinson
Summary: Adventurers Wantedfor simple fetch quest.Ask the barman for Pagan Min.PS. Try to be interesting, I know it can be difficult for you.- said the ostentatious script on the tavern notice board.“Fuck me,” said Ajay.





	Adventurers Wanted for Simple Fetch Quest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fuzziestpuppy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/gifts).



> In early December 2018, my dear friend Fuzzy and I decided to do a little Christmas fic exchange. We exchanged prompts and went away to write, which ended up taking a full month longer than we expected. Never mind, we both got there in the end!
> 
> Anyway my prompt was for a sort of old-school fantasy AU, sort of DnD or even WoW-esque. 
> 
> A larger version of the noticeboard can be found on my blog[ here ](http://haythamsama.tumblr.com/post/182188833340)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**__ **

 

 **_Adventurers Wanted_ ** _for simple fetch quest._

_Ask the barman for Pagan Min._

_PS. Try to be interesting, I know it can be difficult for you._

\- said the ostentatious script on the tavern notice board.

“Fuck me,” said Ajay.

He’d never seen such an over the top handwriting style. Had this ‘Pagan Min’ written it himself? If so, where on earth had he found that magenta-coloured ink? He had to admit it had certainly caught his eye, which was probably the point.

What an irritating postscript though. Ajay already hated the man.

Still, it was the only promising job listing among all the other assorted bullshit that notice boards seemed to accumulate. He certainly wasn’t about to assist any lecherous old blacksmiths with the polishing of their swords, nor was he in need of the company of any buxom lasses.

Huffing a sigh, he pushed inside the dimly lit tavern and went over to the bar to hail the owner.

As per usual, Rabi Ray was talking incessantly about his personal hygiene at some poor lady who really just wanted to buy a drink.

“Rabi,” Ajay interrupted, putting himself squarely in Rabi’s line of sight. “ _Rabi_.”

“Ajay Ghale!” Rabi exclaimed, always managing to seem surprised to see him. “What can I get you, my friend?”

The woman who had been sitting through Rabi’s rant gave Ajay a look of supreme irritation and slunk off to try for a drink later.

“It’s about the job,” Ajay said slowly, “you know, on the board?”

“Ah yes, Gary the honey badger was it? Odd name for a honey badger, but whatever, I just hope you can find it before it rips anyone’s balls off. They do that, you know!” Rabi confided, tapping his nose knowledgeably.

“No, not the honey badger,” Ajay said patiently. “This Pagan Min guy...”

“ _Oh_ ,” Rabi’s eyes were very round. “ _That_ job. Come with me, Ajay, I’ll take you to him.”

“Uh, okay...” Ajay trailed off as Rabi rounded the bar to grab his arm and lead him bodily through the patrons’ tables and up the stairs to the tavern’s accommodation, not releasing his grip until they were standing outside the door of one the rooms.

“Rabi, what...” Ajay began, but Rabi was already rapping on the heavy oak.

“ _Who is it~_?” sang a masculine voice from behind the wood. “ _Amita, darling, if that’s you again, I truly will set your hair on fire-”_

“It’s Rabi Ray,” Rabi called, “I have another adventurer for you, Pagan.”

“ _Oh_!”

Without warning the door swung open on its hinges.

Ajay _stared_.

He’d been expecting a simple square room with a bed and maybe a basin if the occupant was lucky.

This.... This was a fucking _suite_.

Richly woven tapestries adorned the walls and thick carpet was spread across the floor. Dimly glowing and whirring magical devices and esoterica covered every flat surface. A fireplace roared in the fireplace. And before it stood what could only be Pagan Min himself, dressed in flowing silken robes the same garish magenta colour as the ink on the notice board, with an ornate goblet in his hand.

Ajay huffed to himself. _Mages_. He hadn’t met many, but they all seemed to be eccentrics one way or another.

“Hmmmm,” Pagan was looking him up and down with sharp kohl-lined eyes, gaze lingering in a way that made Ajay itch to reach for his bow. “Ranger is it?” The goblet in his hand was telekinetically transported to sit on the mantelpiece so Pagan could walk – no, _glide_ – over to where Ajay was standing, not waiting for permission as he lifted Ajay’s arm in a surprisingly strong grip, watching the muscles in his biceps and shoulders shift and bunch intently. It made Ajay feel strangely naked, being so intensely assessed. This close he could see the arcane sparkle of the sapphire teardrop in one of the mage’s ears. And that _hair_...

“You can use this bow I take it?” Pagan murmured, fingering the bowstring almost obscenely with one long finger.

“Yes,” Ajay bristled, slapping the offending hand away. 

Pagan laughed, low and rich. “My apologies, dear boy, I wasn’t trying to offend you.” His gaze momentarily snapped to Rabi who was still standing hesitantly by the door. “Thank you Rana, that’ll be all.”

As soon as the barman turned to leave, Pagan waved a lazy finger and the door swung shut behind him.

“Now,” he began, suddenly business-like. “As per my notice on the board, I’m in need of competent adventurers to assist me on a quest. I,” he gestured grandly to himself, “am Pagan Min, First Class Mage and fashion icon. I already have two others who are joining me, Amita the Fighter, and Sabal the Cleric. A Ranger would round out the party quite nicely. So...” he fixed Ajay with another darkly intense gaze. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Uh...” Ajay hesitated, a little flummoxed by the mage’s little speech. “My name’s Ajay Ghale,” he rallied himself, “Twenty-seventh level Ranger, specialising in Marksmanship, with some Survivalism on the side.”

“Okay...” Pagan drawled. “Boring. What else?”

‘ _Try to be interesting_ ,’ the notice had read, Ajay remembered. _Ugh_ , _what a prick_ , he thought. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Mostly I go around shooting things for money and collecting plants.”

Pagan sighed dramatically. “Fine. You’ll do. Follow me, I’ll introduce you to the other two.” He crossed the room and picked up a ridiculous staff topped with what appeared to be a miniature golden statue of its owner, then strode out of the room, the door meekly opening to admit him.

“Hang on,” Ajay protested, following despite himself. “I haven’t accepted the job yet.”

Pagan snorted. “Don’t worry your silly little head, darling, I pay _exceedingly_ well. You’ll be able to buy hundreds more of those horrid rags you’re wearing if you so desire once we’re done.” He swept briskly down the stairs to the main hall, stopping so abruptly that only Ajay’s honed Ranger reflexes saved him from crashing into his back.

“Where _are_ the little terrors?” Pagan mused, seemingly to himself, scanning the room. “Ah, there they are.”

The mage cut an eye-catching figure as he passed through the hall, many turning to stare at his luxurious pink silks as he crossed over to a dimly-lit corner with a small table there. The table’s occupants were a man and a woman, both with a flagon of cheap ale in their hand with which they were gesturing vehemently, seemingly deep in an argument about something.

“Amita, Sabal,” Pagan greeted them slightly too cheerfully. “My dear party members. We have a fourth.”

The woman – Amita – put down her ale and stood, her pretty face creased in a frown as she looked Ajay up and down.

“A Ranger?” she demanded of Pagan. “I said we needed a tank, he’s going to be much too squishy.”

“ _Amita_ ,” her companion said exasperatedly, passing a hand over his face. “I told you, _I_ can tank.”

A Fighter and a Cleric, Pagan had said. Amita had to be the Fighter, with her lean build, tough leather armour, and twin blades strapped to her back. He could imagine she made quite a sight in battle. The man – presumably Sabal – was the Cleric then, armed with a heavy ornate mace and a sharp jawline, and was wearing embroidered cloth armour.

“In _that_ armour?” Amita asked incredulously, jabbing a finger in his direction. “You’ll be torn to shreds, you fool!”

Next to him, Pagan caught Ajay’s eye and made the ‘chatterbox’ motion with his hand, rolling his eyes.

“They’re always like this,” he confided. “Amita,” he addressed her sharply, “if Sabal thinks he can tank, I’m inclined to let him try. If he dies, we’ll find ourselves a nice strong Defender or something. Right,” he concluded decisively. “We leave tomorrow morning. Meet you all at the notice board out front after breakfast. Nighty night.”

He vanished.

Ajay sighed, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. “Uh, hi,” he said awkwardly to his new companions. “I’m Ajay.”

“Sabal,” Sabal introduced himself, standing to shake his hand firmly. “Pleasure to meet you, Ajay. Take no note of Amita, she’s deluded.” The Cleric had startlingly green eyes, Ajay noted, and two loops in one ear. He was very handsome.

Glaring at Sabal, Amita also offered her hand to take, rearranging her features into a sweet smile. “Welcome Ajay,” she said warmly. “I look forward to travelling with you.”

“...Thanks,” Ajay replied, struck with whiplash by how quickly the pair’s demeanour changed. “I’ll uh... see you guys tomorrow, I guess.”

“Good night, Ajay,” Amita and Sabal said in eerie unison.

Hoping this wasn’t a gamble he would come to regret, Ajay spent some of his meagre savings from his last job on a bed for the night. He lay awake for a while on the hard pallet, reflecting on his new travelling companions. Amita and Sabal each seemed equally antagonistic, towards each other at least. He hoped they wouldn’t bicker the entire time or he was sure to develop a permanent headache.

And then of course there was Pagan...

Pagan the Pink he’d be called, if he was a Wizard, Ajay thought with a muffled snort. Pagan seemed to have a whirlwind personality, the kind that caught everyone else up in its eddies and pulled them along to its whims.

He was... weird, Ajay decided. Despite that, or perhaps even because of it, he couldn’t deny he had a certain infuriating charm...

“Ugh,” Ajay muttered, rolling over. He was _not_ following that dangerous train of thought. Besides, was Pagan even attractive? He had a magnetic gaze, he remembered, intense and intelligent. Surprising physical strength under the delicate silk of his robes. Quite a bit of the ridiculous about him, but he seemed to own it well. He was intriguing.

He was also incredibly irritating, Ajay thought, burrowing further into his pillow.

 

Ajay was up bright and early in the morning, having had a strict daily regimen he’d kept to since his Ranger training. He was the first to arrive at the noticeboard, and spent some time ensuring all his gear was in order, his arrows still straight and well-fletched, and his daggers sharp.

Sabal and Amita each filed out separately not long after Ajay, positioning themselves on either side of him. As they waited for Pagan, Amita tried to draw Ajay into a conversation about aggressive economic growth, Sabal about his faith in a weird cultish-sounding religion he called ‘Kyratism.’

Thankfully Pagan decided to show his face at that moment, looking endearingly sleepy despite the perfect state of his robes and makeup.

“...Morning?” Ajay ventured.

“Fuck off,” Pagan snarled half-heartedly. “Let’s get moving, shall we, boys and girls?”

“Wait,” Ajay interrupted. “You haven’t told us what we’re doing yet.”

Pagan groaned. “It’s too fucking early for this shit,” he muttered, directing a scowl at Ajay that was too dulled by sleep to be particularly menacing. “We. Are. Going,” he explained slowly, punctuating each word with his finger, “To. Retrieve. An. Item. Understood? Last I heard it was in some nasty backwater cave,” he added in a sulky mutter.

Ajay supposed it was too much to ask what exactly the item in question _was_. He sighed to himself. Whatever; so long as he got paid.

Amita and Sabal _did_ bicker. A lot. To the point where Pagan threatened to cast a spell of Silencing on them. Ajay wished he would. The two couldn’t seem to agree on the colour of the _sky_ , let alone whatever furious philosophical debate they kept returning to. It was exhausting to listen to.

To try and escape from their relentless arguing, Ajay lengthened his stride to walk with Pagan instead. Ajay was hardly the most talkative man in the world, and didn’t feel the need for conversation, but he had to admit he was pretty curious about the eccentric Mage. It took a while for Pagan to warm up – almost until the next town in fact – but with some gentle prompting from Ajay he was soon talking about everything and nothing.

He told Ajay how his father had been the leader of a thieves’ gang in a distant city. Pagan’s magic had started to develop as a child, but rather than send him to be trained in controlling it, Pagan’s father had sought to exploit it.

“I hated him,” Pagan explained matter-of-factly. “A true bastard, my father. I’m almost certain he killed my mother.”

Apparently growing bored with his own history, he’d then launch into a completely unrelated tangent about tunnels, or whatever other nonsense popped into his head.

He had a pleasant voice, Ajay thought, rich and confident. Regardless of what he was talking about, it was nice just listening to him speak. Occasionally he’d say something so completely ridiculous he’d startle Ajay into laughing out loud, and would look rather gratified to have done so.

Ajay told him a little about himself as well, about his mother, his Ranger training, some of his more ridiculous contracts. Pagan didn’t seem especially enthralled, but he did listen.

After a long day of travelling they set up camp at the fringes of a dark forest. Ajay caught them a nice hale doe for dinner, Pagan lighting a campfire for them with an effortless flick of his fingers.

Unfortunately camping together meant that Sabal and Amita were within earshot again, but Ajay tuned them out as best he could, turning his attention to watching Pagan unobtrusively instead. The Mage seemed... larger than life somehow, almost too vibrant to be real.

Or maybe that was just the shade of his robes.

Still, Ajay watched on incredulously as from his little side-satchel Pagan pulled a luxurious looking down-filled bedroll and an embroidered quilt. How the fuck-

Pagan caught him staring and had the audacity to _wink_ as he tucked back his bedcovers. “Only room for one, I’m afraid, dearest.”

Ridiculously, Ajay felt himself flush. “I just wanted to know how the hell you were carrying all that around!” he said, probably too defensively.

“Oh.” Pagan patted his satchel. “Bag of Holding, Ajay. You haven’t seen one before?”

Ajay shook his head, itching to look inside and see if it was just a gaping black hole under the satchel flap.

As though sensing his thoughts, Pagan took care to carefully tuck his bag under his pillow, then arranged himself into an elegant recline on his bedroll. “Beddy byes, Ajay.”

“What the fuck,” Ajay muttered to himself, rolling onto his back to stare up at the stars.

 

When he woke up in the morning, Ajay immediately sensed something was... off.

Lying very still, he glanced over at Pagan on the bedroll across from him and caught his eye.

Pagan nodded and put a finger to his lips, then slowly pushed himself out of bed so he could look up and around. Ajay did the same, his sharp Ranger’s eyes scanning the area.

Behind them, Amita and Sabal were still fast asleep, oblivious to everything. Must’ve worn themselves out yesterday, Ajay thought sardonically. Should he wake them? He looked at Pagan again, who shook his head at the two sleeping, and then pointed out at towards the nearby forest.

Following his finger, Ajay looked out at the trees and froze.

Shuffling through the undergrowth was an enormous boar-like creature. Spines marched down the line of its back and four thick tusks curved out from its mouth, two on either side of its snout. Its dark fur bristled along its flanks, patchy in places where the beast had pale scars that were long-healed. Worst of all was the mysterious black tar-like substance that oozed from its eyes and mouth, staining its snout as it snuffled around in the dirt.

Cursing under his breath, Ajay carefully reached down to retrieve his bow and quiver, having taken them off his back to sleep. Thankfully the boar didn’t seem to have sensed them yet; they might be able to surprise it.

A beast that size though... they’d probably need the others.

Not taking his eyes off the creature, Ajay crept over to Amita and Sabal where they still slept soundly, crouching by their bedroll and putting a cautious hand on their shoulder in turn. It was unwise to take a warrior by surprise as they tended to attack first, ask questions later. Indeed Amita instinctively drew a blade on him when he touched her, but relaxed as soon as she recognised him.

Once he had their attention he pointed out the boar, and they froze much as he had before adopting a defensive stance. Satisfied, Ajay focused on getting himself to a good vantage point. He wasn’t entirely sure his arrows could pierce the boar’s tough-looking hide, especially with those protective spikes. And that dark stuff... he didn’t like the look of that at all.

As he crept closer, bow in hand, the boar lifted its head and sniffed the air, seeking something. As soon as it caught the party’s scent it squealed in excitement, its bristly fur standing on end, spines erect. With its beady little eyes it scanned the area until it found their camp. With another furious squeal, the boar charged.

Abandoning the need for stealth, the party fanned out, Amita and Sabal jumping in front to deal melee damage, Pagan and Ajay at the rear.

“Ugly fucker,” Pagan commented, nose wrinkled in distaste. “Heads up,” he called, holding his staff aloft as he called down a huge fireball on the beast. The smell of seared flesh filled the air immediately, but the boar didn’t even break stride. Now almost upon them they could see it really was giant, equal in height to Ajay and twice as broad. To be gored by those huge tusks would likely be fatal.

Next to Pagan, Ajay aimed an arrow at the boar’s eye. It would be best to take it down quickly, and judging by the boar’s total disregard of Pagan’s magic, he had been right in his assessment of its hide. Drawing his bow, he fired a shot, the arrow flying true. Ajay watched its descent with bated breath, a second arrow at the ready, only for his eyes to widen in horror as the arrow point pierced the thick tar and appeared to just... dissolve.

“What the fuck...” he muttered, then raised his voice to call out to Sabal and Amita, “Hey watch out for the black stuff, it’s dangerous!”

Sabal raised a hand in acknowledgement of his words, he and Amita carefully circling around to flank it and avoid its tusks and tar. Irritating as they could be, at least they looked like they knew what they were doing, Sabal grudgingly casting a protective ward around both himself and Amita to give them an extra level of defence.

Ajay shifted his attention from the two melee fighters for now, thinking quickly as he mentally catalogued his inventory. He truly wasn’t sure there was anything he could do that was of use in this fight. Unless...

He glanced at Pagan, who was firing spells of various elements, trying to find a weakness to exploit. The boar seemed strangely impervious to magic. Maybe it was the tar stuff that armoured it against arcane damage.

Reaching into his pockets, Ajay withdrew several snare traps. They weren’t strong enough to anchor a beast of the boar’s size alone, but perhaps they could cause it to stumble. Moving quickly, he created a line of defence between the boar and himself and Pagan.

“Amita, Sabal!” he yelled. “Lead it over to the traps, but be careful!”

They nodded and halted their assault to split off and run towards the ranged fighters.

The boar roared in frustration and charged after them, its thundering steps making the ground shake as it neared. It tripped the first snare trap, the wire coiling promptly around its trotter and staggering it, allowing all four party members the opportunity they needed to throw everything they had at it.

With a moment’s concentration, Sabal cast a cleansing spell at it and managed to remove some of the dark gunk that was weeping from its orifices. That allowed both Amita and Ajay to attack its weak spots, Ajay aiming once again at its eye and Amita slashing furiously at its snout, her twin blades flashing.

This time, Ajay’s arrow arced neatly into the boar’s exposed eye socket, plunging into the tissue with a sickening squelch and a stream of yet more black ichor.

Amita leapt back just in time to avoid the boar’s enraged swing of its tusks, a low wounded bellow erupting from its throat. Looking around wildly with its remaining good eye, it caught sight of Ajay and _charged_.

Caught entirely by surprise, Ajay started shooting, hoping to catch its other eye, but the beast was shockingly fast and was upon him all too quickly. Bracing himself, the earth trembling beneath him, Ajay readied himself to dodge. At the last possible second, he threw himself to the side, an unexpected flash of light suddenly searing his retinas and momentarily blinding him. Blinking rapidly, his vision blurred by streaks of bright pink, he looked up just in time to see Pagan appear from nowhere and throw an urgent glyph of protection in front of him, shielding them both.

The boar’s tusks slammed into the glyph with an unpleasant crash, inches from where Ajay had been standing only seconds earlier. The barrier flashed and then shattered.

With a roar of triumph, the boar renewed its charge.

Straight into Pagan.

The brightness of his robes made him an obvious target for the half-blind beast, who smashed the mage carelessly aside with a dismissive toss of its great head.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ajay hissed, vaguely aware of the other two running up beside him. He didn’t have time to check on Pagan however, as the boar seemed to be getting tired of these irritating little humans and had reared up on its back legs to crush all three of them.

“Now!” Amita screamed, the three of them aiming their weapons at the boar’s exposed underbelly. Sabal’s spell of weakening hit the boar squarely in the heart, followed promptly by Ajay’s triple shot of arrows and Amita’s thrown daggers. The blades embedded themselves deeply in the boar’s weakened flesh and through to its heart. It gave one last furious bellow and fell, the three of them quickly scrambling to get out of the way of its collapsing bulk.

Amita poked its still body tentatively, ensuring it really was dead. This close, they could smell the pungent odour of the oily black excrescence and see its unnatural iridescent shine.

Ajay didn’t stop to admire it however, rushing over to the crumpled figure of Pagan still lying on the ground where he’d been tossed. “Are you all right, Pagan?” he asked worriedly.

Pagan groaned, rolling over to look up at him. His robes were stained with blood and he looked pale and dazed. “Did you get the piggy?” he asked weakly.

Ajay nodded. “How badly did he get you?” he asked. “Let me look.”

“Stop your pawing,” Pagan groaned as Ajay tried to open his robes and assess the damage. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Ajay said decisively. “Sabal! We need you!”

Sabal was leaning over his shoulder in a trice. “I uh... don’t have healing magic,” he admitted awkwardly.

Ajay stared at him. “But... you’re a Cleric,” he replied stupidly.

There was a huff on his other side. “He only studied combat spells,” Amita explained dryly.

Finally getting Pagan’s elaborate robes open despite the Mage’s feeble protests, Ajay examined him carefully. He had a nasty looking cut along his side that thankfully seemed relatively shallow, the bleeding already slowing to a dull ooze. Otherwise he seemed merely stunned.

“Does it hurt to breathe?” Ajay asked gently. If his ribs were cracked or broken that was another thing altogether.

Pagan shook his head. “No. Think I’m just bruised.”

“Okay good. Still, I want that cut looked at by a Healer. How far are we from the next town?” he asked Sabal and Amita.

Amita cocked her head, looking at the road. “Another half a day’s journey, at least,” she said grimly.

“Fuck,” Ajay muttered, using his knife to cut a swathe of fabric from Pagan’s robes, heedless of his anguished protests. He pressed it carefully on the wound, hoping it would staunch the bleeding.

“My tailor is going to destroy you,” Pagan muttered mutinously.

“He won’t know if your wounds fester on the road and kill you,” Ajay snapped back.

Pagan thought about that. “Fine,” he said at last, using his staff as a makeshift cane to slowly pull himself upright. With an imperious gesture, his bedding from the past night returned to his bag which came flying to his hand. To Ajay he said, “Get your shit.”

Ajay gave him a puzzled look but did as he was told, packing up his bedroll and bringing his meagre belongings back over to Pagan.

Pagan nodded approvingly at him, tucking his own bag under his arm and holding out his free hand.

“What-” began Amita.

 “Wait..!” Sabal exclaimed.

But it was too late. As soon as Ajay’s hand was in Pagan’s, the two of them were enveloped in a flash of bright light as Pagan teleported them. For a sickening moment Ajay felt as though he’d been hurled sideways through a suffocatingly narrow tunnel. When they stopped he clutched his chest, dizzy and breathless.

Next to him, Pagan careened dangerously to the side, looking pale and sick. “Probably a stupid thing to do,” he muttered.

“Where the hell did you take us?” Ajay asked.

Pagan squeezed his eyes shut. “Town,” he managed, then fainted.

“Fucking idiot,” Ajay murmured, carefully rearranging Pagan’s limp body until it looked more comfortable and settling his bedroll under his head for a makeshift pillow. Then he looked around. They were indeed right on the edge of a town, a few nearby villagers staring strangely at the two new arrivals.

“Hey!” Ajay called. “Is there a Healer nearby?”

Looking around, a woman came over reluctantly. “Noore is a Healer,” she said. “Her home is just down the street.”

“Great,” Ajay said, relieved. “Can... can you help me move Pagan here?”

“Ugh,” the woman rolled her eyes. “Fine, but he better not bleed on me.”

“I’m sure he’ll do his best,” Ajay replied waspishly. Really, a man’s life could be at stake here.

Supporting Pagan between them, they were able to slowly hobble down the road to where the woman said the Healer could be found.

“Noore!” she shouted as they neared the Healer’s house. “Noore, we need some help!”

Another woman emerged, her striking features tight with concern. “Bring him in,” she ordered. “I’ll take a look.”

From then on, things seemed to pass in a confusing blur for Ajay. Exhausted from the fight with the boar, and concern for Pagan, he collapsed in a chair in the corner of Noore’s clinic and watched in a daze as Noore treated Pagan’s wounds.

At some point he must have passed out, for he woke up to find Pagan’s dark gaze watching him intently.

“Ajay,” Pagan purred, reclining indolently on the Healer’s surgery table. He sat up, propping himself up on one elbow. “You’re awake.”

“So are you,” Ajay managed, yawning widely. “Are you okay?”

Pagan smiled warmly at him. “Thanks to you, dear boy,” he replied, lines around his eyes crinkling.

Ajay looked away, uncomfortable with the affection in Pagan’s gaze. “That’s good.”

Noore came back in then. “Good, you’re both awake,” she said briskly. “I have more patients on the way. Can I ask you to stay at the tavern?”

“Sure,” Ajay replied quickly, standing up. “Thank you for your help, Noore.”

Noore waved a dismissive hand. “Cuts are easy. You should be gentle on your magic for a few days though,” she advised Pagan. “You overextended yourself today.”

Pagan sniffed, sliding off the table. “Yes, yes,” he replied impatiently, looking a bit sheepish. “Thank you, Healer.”

“Bye, Mage,” Noore said in much the same tone.

Gathering their belongings, they left the Healer’s clinic to go in search of the local tavern for the night. Thankfully it wasn’t far.

Ajay didn’t realise he was fussing over Pagan until he’d already ensured they both had dinner in front of them and were seated comfortably at a table in the corner where they wouldn’t be bothered by the other patrons.  
As he sat down across from Pagan, the Mage looked terribly pleased for some reason.

“What are you so happy about?” Ajay grumbled, avoiding his gaze and beginning to eat.

“Oh, nothing,” Pagan replied airily, beaming at him.

Ajay scowled at him in return. “Eat your food.”

They ate in silence for a while, until it seemed Pagan could no longer contain himself.

“You looked after me today,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

“You saved me first,” Ajay pointed out uncomfortably. “I could hardly just let you bleed out after you protected me.”

Pagan hummed thoughtfully. “I’m not accustomed to people caring whether I live or die,” he confided. “Perhaps it was a question of honour, like you said. Perhaps you were concerned about your pay. I don’t really care,” he put up a hand to forestall Ajay’s protests. “It’s just... nice to have someone concerned about me.”

That... was one of the saddest things Ajay had ever heard.

“Surely you have... I don’t know. Friends, or lovers or something,” he blurted out, flushing a little as he imagined the sort of people Pagan might choose to be intimate with. People as wild and bizarre as he was, probably.

Pagan smiled a sad little smile. “Not really. I was too ambitious in my youth, too ruthless. I didn’t care who I stepped on to get to where I am now.”

Seeing the Mage look so vulnerable and melancholy gave Ajay the inexplicable urge to kiss him.

“I think you’re amazing,” he confessed shyly. “I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

Pagan’s eyes widened and he stared at Ajay. “Really, Ajay? Really and truly?”

“Really and truly,” Ajay confirmed, smiling tentatively.

Pagan passed a hand over his face, exhaling and looking like a much younger man for a moment. “Oh,” he said simply. He still looked faintly amazed.

They had a drink or two, sitting together on their little table. Deciding his confession hadn’t been received _too_ poorly, Ajay decided to try and push their earlier conversation a little further. He was exhausted, and likely not thinking straight, but he might not ever get such an opportunity again.

Slowly and deliberately, his eyes not leaving Pagan’s for a second, he reached out and took both of Pagan’s hands in his.

“Pagan,” he said very clearly. “I’ve been dazzled by you from the moment I saw your ridiculous notice on the board. Would you come upstairs with me?”

Pagan hadn’t taken his hands back, so just to push the envelope even further, Ajay raised one to his mouth to brush the faintest suggestion of a kiss along the back of it.

“Ajay you...-” Pagan trailed off, a telltale smudge of pink spreading across his high cheekbones. “ _Yes_ ,” he breathed finally.

They hurriedly paid for a room and stumbled upstairs together, hearts beating rapidly in their chests.

Closing the door behind them, Pagan surveyed the room. “Not as nice as I’d like, but it’ll do I suppose,” he remarked.

Ajay snorted. It wasn’t nearly so grand as his room had been at Rabi Ray’s tavern, true, but compared to what _he_ was used to, this room was luxurious. An enormous four-poster bed dominated the room, covered in a rich red bedspread embroidered with gold. Thick carpet lined the floor and there was an amazingly detailed hanging on one of the walls that depicted a warrior in armour riding an elephant. The room was lit with a warm amber glow by lanterns, their flames dancing inside the glass.

Pagan still looked mildly dissatisfied, so Ajay stepped closer and kissed him.

He hadn’t known before he did it, but it felt like the right thing to do. Fuck, how could it not be? Pagan was so beautifully strange and colourful; just touching him sent electricity racing down Ajay’s spine.

Soon enough, Pagan was kissing him back, tugging him closer with an insistent grip on his waist.

Once he realised that yes, Pagan wanted this too, Pagan was pulling him _in,_ Ajay couldn’t contain himself. Desires that had lain stealthily dormant since the moment he’d met the Mage came spilling out of him in a molten wave, dazing and dazzling him with their vehemence.

He wanted, no _needed_ Pagan. Mesmerising, brilliant _ridiculous_ Pagan. He didn’t care how, in his mouth, around his cock, between his legs. Whatever. So long as it was him.

Gratifyingly, Pagan met his enthusiasm fiercely, pulling him until they collapsed on the huge bed in a tangle of limbs.

Chuckling a little, Ajay righted himself first so he could climb on top of Pagan and pin him beneath his weight, kissing him deep and slow and hungry.

Pagan writhed fitfully beneath him, moaning into his mouth, especially once Ajay managed to get a hand down between them, touching him hungrily through his silk robes and making him buck up against him. He felt powerful, having Pagan at his mercy like that. He enjoyed it. Savoured it. Wanted to keep it.

Thankfully Pagan seemed inclined to let him, lying flat and panting on the bed beneath him, dark gaze heavy-lidded and languid. He looked so elegant and untouchable that Ajay kissed him again, just to prove to himself that he could, and then set himself to removing the torn magenta silk.

“Ajay,” Pagan spoke at last, watching him. “I underestimated you, you extraordinary boy. You’re far more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

“And you’re less of a dick than I expected,” Ajay grinned, and pulled away the rest of the silk so he could see him. All of him.

Pagan made no move to cover his bare skin, managing to look both vain and self-conscious at the same time. His skin was littered with scars of both physical and magical damage, some better healed than others. His most recent injury from the boar had been healed very neatly by Noore, Ajay was pleased to see. His muscles were more toned than Ajay would have expected of a Mage, especially in his arms and legs, though there was an endearing softness around his middle that made him smile. Lower, there was a patch of dark hair and his flushed and hard cock, clearly appreciative of his gaze.

Ajay wanted to _devour_ him.

“Roll over,” he ordered, voice much more commanding than its usual placid drawl.

Pagan huffed but did as he was asked, rolling over onto his stomach and groaning a little as the soft bedspread rubbed against his aroused and sensitive skin.

Ajay didn’t give him time to recover, kneeling by the side of the bed and in between Pagan’s legs.

“Ajay, what-” Pagan began weakly, moments before Ajay leaned down and _licked_.

Pagan made a fascinating high-pitched choking noise the moment his tongue touched the base of his balls, his fingers scrabbling helplessly at the bedcovers.

Ajay grinned to himself and went lower, licking a filthy line up to the small of his back. He repeated the motion, and then lingered at his opening, dipping his tongue inside him and swirling it around.

Pagan didn’t seem to know whether to push up or pull away, prompting a muted laugh from Ajay, exhaling hotly against his skin and making him whine at the sensation. His fingers, well-calloused from drawing his bow, kneaded Pagan’s ass, his thumb pressing inside him beside his tongue to open him up further.

Pagan practically _mewled_ , arching his back and raising his hips to roll back against Ajay’s mouth, at the mercy of his tongue’s slick wet heat as it massaged its way inside him, tasting him.

“ _W-wretched_ boy,” the Mage moaned, voice muffled from where he was hiding his face in the crook of his arm. “ _Please_...”

Deciding he sounded well and truly wrecked, Ajay figured he’d better move on if he wanted Pagan to last much longer. He pressed small brief kisses up Pagan’s spine and then rolled him over onto his back again. Catching Pagan’s eye, he grinned filthily, his mouth glistening in the lamplight.

Pagan smiled back despite himself, his cheeks as pink as his robes. “Never expected you to be such a _tease_ , my boy,” he murmured, eyes dark with arousal.

“I want to ride you,” Ajay replied bluntly.

The Mage’s eyes gleamed. “You’d better undress then,” he pointed out, and flicked a lazy finger.

Ajay watched in surprise as his clothes peeled off him, folding themselves neatly in a corner. He folded his arms. “You’re just showing off now. Didn’t Noore say not to use your magic for a while?”

Pagan scoffed, looking adorably offended. “As though telekinesis is _difficult_ ,” he said, expression just falling short of a pout. He beckoned imperiously. “Come back.”

Ajay did, smiling despite himself as Pagan welcomed him back onto the bed, their now equally bare skin hot against each other. Pagan pulled Ajay into his lap, kissing him hard, a sneaky hand snaking down to pinch and tease a nipple.

Ajay gasped into his mouth, biting Pagan’s lip in retaliation and making the Mage chuckle.

“You _are_ a little spitfire,” he said affectionately.

The Ranger cocked his head, bird-like, and then grinned, licking his lips.

His smug expression was soon interrupted as magic-slicked fingers found their way to his entrance, carefully stroking before beginning to push in. He moaned as they pushed deeper, pitching forward to rest his forehead on Pagan’s shoulder.

“Come on,” he muttered into his skin. “Want you.”

“Patience, darling,” Pagan replied cheerfully, clearly smug to have the upper hand now. “I’m not going to risk hurting you just because you’re feeling impati- _mmf!_ ” he was cut off abruptly as Ajay sank his teeth into Pagan’s shoulder, just hard enough to sting.

“ _I_ am,” Ajay muttered, though he kissed the bite in apology.

“Fucking feral,” Pagan complained, though his eyes were crinkling in amusement when Ajay looked up. He thrust two fingers deep inside him, making Ajay whine and roll his hips. “Oh, is that what you wanted?” he asked innocently.

“Fuck you,” Ajay managed, choking on a gasp as Pagan twisted his fingers punishingly.

“All in good time, Ajay,” Pagan smirked, voice rich with amusement. He pulled his fingers out, teasing the rim just to see Ajay moan again, eyelids fluttering, before casting a quick spell to slick up his cock.

Ajay took a moment to catch his breath, braced against Pagan’s shoulder. He maintained his grip on him for balance as he finally sunk down onto his cock, a low groan escaping him as he was filled.

Pagan’s grip tightened on his waist, steadying him, and they both exhaled roughly the moment Ajay was fully seated on top of him.

Ajay waited a moment so they could both adjust, then slowly, indulgently, began to move.

At first Pagan seemed content to watch him, to see the play of expressions across his face, lips parted, lashes flitting dark against his cheek with the flutter of his eyelids.

He saw the exact moment Ajay managed to angle himself just _so_ , Pagan’s cock catching him just right and making him cry out. His expression of pleasure was so pure and complete that Pagan couldn’t seem to resist leaning in to kiss him, swallowing his sounds and feeding Ajay his own.

They rocked together, skin against skin, hearts beating rapidly, panting breaths mingling. Ajay’s hands migrated to Pagan’s back, blunt fingers clawing at his skin like a wild animal as they each grew more frenzied, intoxicated with each other.

At last they came together like an explosion, Ajay pulling Pagan impossibly closer as he spilled between them. Pagan’s equally laboured breaths echoed in his ear as they held each other, waiting for the little spasms of ecstasy to cease.

They released each other with a contented sigh, Ajay smiling tiredly and kissing Pagan’s cheek, stroking that ridiculous hair of his.

Pagan allowed it, rolling his eyes with a snort. His gaze was adoring when it met Ajay’s again, however, making Ajay feel an affection so profound that it _hurt_ , his chest tight with the emotion. It felt too raw to touch.

“You’re a ridiculous creature,” he said instead of anything more complimentary, rolling off him to lie beside him on the bed.

“And you’re a brat,” Pagan responded contentedly, reaching over to ruffle Ajay’s hair.

Ajay batted him away with a huff.

They lay there next to each other for a while, waiting for their hearts to stop racing and their breath to slow.

To his irritation, Ajay felt shyness threatening at the sides of his mind. What would happen now? Would Pagan want him to go? Would he make him take the bed and look for somewhere else to sleep?

He shoved it away, tiredness already creeping in.

“I’m going to nap,” he announced.

There was no response.

Ajay looked over and found his Mage already fast asleep, sprawled out luxuriously on his back.

Snorting to himself in amusement, Ajay made himself comfortable and let sleep take him too.

 

To Ajay’s relief there was no awkwardness in the morning. They teased each other as they dressed, Ajay watching in fascination as Pagan meticulously repaired and cleaned his robes with magic before putting them back on. His magic was all but fully recovered after a good night’s sleep, he said.

They came downstairs together, both starving after the previous day’s exertions, only to come face to face with Amita and Sabal at the bar.

Their abandoned party members stared.

“You’re... not dead,” Amita said dumbly, staring at Pagan.

Recovering the fastest out of all of them, Pagan gestured grandly at himself with his golden staff. “Good as new, thanks to Ajay here.”

Ajay couldn’t help flushing. Would they be able to tell that they’d shared a bed? Was it written all over them?

Sabal looked at him oddly, but addressed his question to Pagan. “Is the quest still on?” he asked bluntly.

Pagan and Ajay exchanged glances, Ajay shrugging. It was Pagan’s quest, it was up to him.

“You know,” Pagan began, “I think I’m going to need some time to recover from my injuries before continuing.”

Ajay just managed to bite down an incredulous snort; he’d hardly seemed hindered last night.

Pagan shot him a look, his eyes glinting with knowing amusement. “I will pay you for your services thus far, of course,” he said, and with a wave of his hand, conjured a generous bag of gold coins for both of them, offering them with one in each hand.

Amita took hers with a sulky set to her jaw, while Sabal looked rather more cheerful.

“Come, Amita, we’ll see if that honey badger still needs retrieving,” he said, tucking his gold into his pocket.

They left.

“What was Sabal so happy about?” Ajay wondered aloud.

“Probably the rare tusk he managed to snag from the boar yesterday,” Pagan suggested. “I could feel it in his pack. That thing’s worth thousands.”

“Ah, that’ll be it,” Ajay agreed. He smiled at Pagan. “Where to next?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> ^ I drew that! :D


End file.
